The Oval Office ✓ (Book One)

Chapter Twenty Six

Senator-" I feel a hand on my shoulder, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Senator! Are you alright?"One of the Princess's guards asks, holding my door open. I don't think I even noticed the car stop.

  "Yeah I'm.. I'm fine." I reply. I'm not, but I don't say it. Instead I step out of the limo and into the doorway of what is our designated safe place. On the other side of the building, the protests rage on. Most of the buildings that are flammable are up in flames. There are physical, bloody fights taking place between the two sides.

  The thought crosses through my mind: this isn't protest, this is a full blown civil war. One that's going to consume the entire country if something doesn't happen, and fast. "I'm going out there." I announce.

  "Okay." The Princess replies, about to walk out with me before one of her security guards stops her.

  "I know what.. the queen said but if you go out there I cannot guarantee your safety. Your life will be at more of a risk every single second that you are out in the open." The security guard says.

  "I don't care." She responds. "Some risks are well worth it. This is one of them." So with twelve security guards, the three of us set out into the protests.

  "Is that the Princess?"

  "No dumbass it's a feather. I think he's that American senator. He won't ever shut the hell up about 'equality this' and 'equality that'." I turn to the two people having that conversation I overheard.

  "Is equality not an important issue to you, sir?" I raise an eyebrow at him.

  "No, actually. We already have it. People are just being dramatic." He says.

  "In what world? Hate crimes are at an all time high. Transgender rights are almost nonexistent in your country right now. Your fellow citizens are dying because of people like you. Doctors, scientist, teachers, charity workers- all because you can't accept the fact that everybody was not born looking exactly like you. So I'm going to ask you- why are you fighting your neighbors? People you grew up with? People you used to be friends with?"

  "They don't respect my personal beliefs. I won't respect people that don't respect me back."

  "I wouldn't respect you either. You want people to respect the fact that you are a xenophobic prick? You want them to respect the fact that you hate what they were born as and can't help?"

  "It's not like that-"

  "Oh that's exactly what it's like and you know it." I shake my head. "The fact that a person can be so hateful doesn't make any sense to me. What really doesn't make sense is the fact that it is 2018 and humans are still having to fight for basic birth rights that are guaranteed in almost every country's constitution." I turn to a security guard and gesture to his megaphone. "Can I borrow that- thank you."

I climb on top of a car that's already been destroyed, giving me a full view of the chaos occurring right in front of me. And despite the protests of their security, the Princess and her fiancé soon follow. "Oh my god." She covers her mouth with her hands.

There are peaceful protesters throughout the massive crowd- plenty of them, but they're getting gassed and beat because of the violent few. In the thirty two years I've been alive, even during the most intense months of the Black Lives Matter protests, I've never seen anything like this. Most of these people seem seem to have absorbed into the crowd so much that they barely notice the Princess is just a couple feet away. About ten yards away, there's a woman who couldn't be older than twenty, whose very obviously pregnant, about to get cuffed for telling a police officer to piss off. As I step down, ready to punch the living shit out of him, a security guard aggressively pulls me back by my arm. "You're gonna get yourself killed if you go in there." He says.

  "Good. Maybe their allies will finally start listening to their please for help then." I yank my arm away, running to the woman. I watch in horror as the police officer brings down his baton to strike her, and my instincts kick in. Without thinking, I reflexively grab the baton as it's an inch away from her face. The police officer raises an eyebrow at me, a "you're next" look on his face, and I can't help but laugh in it.

  "I have diplomatic immunity in thirteen countries- including this one. I dare you." I say, challenging him. "Back the fuck up."

  "You may have diplomatic immunity but you hold no position of authority here. You back up." He grits his teeth.

  "Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it if I don't?" I stare him down for a second until he walks away.

  "Thank you.... Senator Wells." The woman says.

  "Just being a decent person." I shrug, rejoining the Princess and her fiancé on top of the car, who are now looking at me like I'm crazy. The diplomatic immunity thing wasn't entirely true- I've only got it in three countries and this isn't one of them, but I'm sure I'll be able to arrange for it after today. Princess Ariyah gives me the "it's time" look, and I sigh, turning the megaphone on.  "EVERYBODY SHUT UP FOR A SECOND!" Everybody within hearing range turns to me, silent, as it's human instinct to shut up when somebody yells at you to do something.

"What is the point of all of this? None of this is accomplishing anything. All you're doing is burning your country to the ground." I say.

"If that's what it takes to get the government to listen to us so be it!" A protester responds. "We're tired of being treated like second class citizens. Hell, the Princess herself out of all people should understand."

"I've been called many colorful things." The Princess nods. "I'm sure many of you have as well- but that doesn't excuse this type of anger. Anger can be good when it gets things done- this won't. So, as a member of the royal family, I am begging you, stop this."

There's a moment of complete silence in the street, something that hasn't occurred in months, until a bold protester steps right in front of the security guards, looking past them and straight into the eyes of the Princess. "We'll stop when the prime minister does his fucking job and names all white supremacist groups as terrorist organizations."

  "Then redirect that anger into peaceful protests that prevent him from getting anything else done until he does that. He'll have to listen at some point." I say.

  "You mean well, Senator." They reply. "But you don't speak for us."

  "I know that. Don't you think I know that? I acknowledge that I will never know what it is like to be dark-skinned. To get called racial slurs for breathing the wrong way, or to be at danger of getting shot every time I step outside. But this division does nothing for anybody. If we can't come together to stop this war, then this country is truly fucked." I reply. "And I know that none of you want that." I gesture to everybody.

  That's when it happens. So fast that I barely have time to register what's going on, yet it feels like it goes by in slow motion. "Duck!" Ariyah's fiancé screams, his eyes focused on one of the windows on a skyscraper. For less than a tenth of a second, I squint my eyes until they notice the front end of a gun sticking out of it, a person looking through the scope. Jesus he's observant. I don't have enough time to react- The security guards don't even have enough time to properly react to what happens next.

  Because she is their top priority, always, they reach Ariyah first, shielding her body with theirs. I freeze for a second, not knowing how to react, and her fiancé jumps in front of me, pushing me over and shielding my body with his. I watch as the bullets hit him,lodging in his stomach, skull, and chest.

  The scream that comes next is one that I'll never forget.